I was practically convinced that this trip to Rome would be so much better.

Why, you ask? Well, several reasons. Let's touch on them quickly, shall we?

1. We only visited Rome for 3 days the last time, which certainly wasn't enough. Armed with seven whole days, and a promise not to visit any museums, or repeat anything from our last visit, we were confident we would have a slower pace to take it all in.

2. In the months leading up to our trip, I had met some fabulous on-line friends who were going to be in Rome. A few even live there. Both expats and Romans alike. One in particular promised me that she would show me her Rome. How can you go wrong?

3. We were not staying in the touristy city center. This time we picked a cute Roman neighborhood. Surely that, plus my lists of must-eat trattorias, wine bars and cafes would go along way to keeping us happy.

So, with a whole week, no real plan, no museums, a camera, a fistful of Roman contacts, a positive attitude and an open mind, we headed for Rome. To give her yet another chance.

But like last time, we don't get very far before problems arise. A problem with the plane, reroutes us back to our gate. We arrive in Rome four hours later than scheduled.

Next we find that the trains which we planned to take into Rome are not running. No explanations, no confirmed strike. Just a lot of shoulder shrugging and an eerie silence in the train station.

An hour later and 65€ poorer, we were finally dropped off by taxi in front of our Bed and Breakfast, on a brightly lit afternoon. In 100 degree weather. In May. When average temps are normally a pleasant 70 degrees. Our luck had placed us in Rome at the exact time that a heat wave decided to grace the city.

And did I mention that I don't do heat? Which is why we didn't travel in say, July.

Which brings me to our accommodations. Oh, there was air conditioning alright. On a timer. From 8pm to 8am. Which incidentally is the coolest part of the day.

Oh, and then there was the fact that this was supposed to be a working vacation.

Brought the Blackberry and the laptop for just that purpose. Except the blackberry wasn't working and neither the B&B owner, nor I could figure out how to connect to the free-wifi.

So this was our second attempt at a nice Roman welcome. Yeah, right. I think the Roman welcome wagon lost a few wheels and was skidding out of control, headed straight for the Roman ruins.

For the life of me, I can't figure out why when Rome knows full well that we had a hard time getting there the last time, she would make it so hard for us to return- even with our open minds and hopeful hearts.

Rome was off to less than a stellar second start.

The rest of the week proved to be scorchingly hot. We scaled back on many of our fun-in-the-blinding- hot- sun daytime activities and sought shelter under the umbrella shaded tables where we enjoyed early lunches and followed them up with late afternoon siestas in our non-air conditioned room, sans clothes and sheets.

Most of the rest of the week was enjoyable and uneventful, except for the fact that on one of the last trains back from a get together with friends in Garbatella, I got off the Metro stop and, well, Chris didn't.

Oh and the time we took the bus, in the wrong direction, all the way out to the Termini station. And the time I almost got strong armed by a Italian secret service agent guarding a door when I tried to snap a photo of said door.

We did have a great time, wandering the smaller streets of Rome, exploring our Monti neighborhood, meeting up with friends, writers and fellow Italophiles, taking photo after photo, doing research for trip planning and experiencing some of the best pasta, wine, cappuccino and espresso that Rome had to offer.

But through it all, I felt like I was missing something. I couldn't quiet put my finger on it. It really wasn't a tangible thing. It was more like a feeling.

I never got that warm and fuzzy feeling I had when I spent time in other parts of Italy. Like in Venice, Tuscany or Florence.

Visiting those places made me want to live there. I felt a connection. But with Rome, even the second time around, not so much.

In Rome, I was missing that feeling. That connection. Rome is a big city- and I am not really a big city girl. But I think it runs deeper than that because Paris is also a big city, but in Paris, I had the feeling.

Unlike Paris, Rome is not a place where you simply stroll along the river, because the river is cloudy and there is really nothing charming about the quays. There is no ivy dripping down the walls, there aren't any boats trolling tourists to and fro, no neon-signed bars on anchored barges with a sophisticated vibe.

I think Rome is more of a gritty city. If Rome could talk it think it would say:

"Take me as I am- I don't care if you like me or not. I am not gonna change for you. Graffiti will stay where it is, I will not pretty myself up for anyone. I have survived thousands of years, there is blood on these streets, you wouldn't believe what I have been through, I could tell some grizzly stories. So, I have earned my right to be just as I am. Take me or leave me, I don't care. And if you don't like it…I'll kick your ass! You got something to say about it? "

And there is nothing right or wrong about that. It's just the way it is.

So after sitting with all of this for a month or so after my return from Rome, I think I have learned several things that I'd like to share.

And I say that from the standpoint of someone searching to find a connection with an area in Italy that will make me happy and comfortable spending considerable amounts of time, and possibly living, in.

And in this case, Rome will not be my home.

Don't misunderstand me. Rome is a city not to be missed. For its history, its architecture, its churches, its food, its people and its culture. For visiting.

Will I visit Rome again? Absolutely. Will I continue to recommend it to clients, plan trips, give restaurant suggestions? Most definitely.

And though I won't be headed back on the next flight to Rome anytime soon (simply because there are so many places in Italy I have yet to explore {Calabria, Liguria, Cinque Terre, Umbria, Piedmonte} and need to find my Italy) there are still many layers of Rome that I need and would like to uncover at another time down the road.

Secondly, I also learned Rome is best explored in small doses, not for weeks at a time or years on end. Perhaps my love for Rome will grow years from now, when I can visit for just a few days at a time, as a weekend getaway perhaps. Or while getting together with the native Romans and expat friends who call Rome home, sharing stories about their Italy.

For now, I will have to be content with helping others explore Rome through my eyes, now somewhat clouded.

But, I still long for the day that I can appreciate Rome as an expat, while living in my Italy. Wherever my Italy happens to be.

Rome – It’s Not My Italy was last modified: August 17th, 2016 by robin